High Voltage In His Lips
by BulletBlaze
Summary: This was all Deaton's fault. Okay, it technically wasn't Deaton's fault, but he was the guy who had told Stiles about… it. Who had ruined Stiles' life with this knowledge. Stiles had a fucking soulmate. A soulmate. What the fuck?


**Title from 'Cardiac Arrest' by Bad Suns. Enjoy, and tell me what you think!**

This was all Deaton's fault.

Okay, it technically wasn't Deaton's fault, but he was the guy who had _told_ Stiles about… it. Who had ruined Stiles' life with this knowledge.

Stiles had a fucking soulmate. A _soulmate._

What the fuck?

Apparently, according to Deaton, many sparks did, but most never found them because it wasn't really all that necessary. Sure, finding your mate meant strengthening your magic a bit- healing slightly faster, feeling pack bonds more clearly, stuff like that. Stuff that wasn't essential.

Unless that spark happened to be Stiles. Stiles, the spark whose powers _refused to fucking work._ Just wouldn't do it. They helped him that one time with the mountain ash and then said, see ya, bitch, you're on your own.

And apparently that was Very Very Bad.

Like, Stiles Dying Bad.

Deaton had explained it like shaking a bottle of soda. If it wasn't let out, it would create pressure, and that pressure would hurt, but it wouldn't kill.

But Stiles' bottle also happened to have a mento in it, and it was honestly a surprise the bottle hadn't burst yet.

The bottle being Stiles, of course. And the mento was his soulmate.

And normally _that_ wouldn't be a problem, but the mento wasn't next to the bottle, it was _in_ the bottle.

Which apparently meant that Stiles didn't just have a soulmate. His soulmate was someone close; someone he probably saw every day. Maybe even someone on the pack. _Likely_ someone in the pack.

And _apparently_ Stiles was "reckless" with his magic and pushed far too hard to make it work, effectively shaking the bottle way more than was safe.

Stiles didn't feel any different, but the pack reported that he smelled different. More intense, somehow, like he was right under their nose.

So Stiles, being a pretty big fan of not exploding, asked Deaton how the hell he was supposed to let the magic out without dying, and the fucker told him he had to _kiss_ his soulmate. As if he even knew who it was! Plus, what was with the whole 'magic of the universe playing matchmaker' thing? And, there wasn't even a guaranteed chance that he would be all safe and sound. Since the magic had been closed up for so long, it would come rushing out at first chance, which would probably be dangerous, because of course it would.

And that's how Stiles found himself about to be kissed by every. Single. Member. Of his goddamn pack. All of them. They decided to do it at the loft, since they didn't want to risk being seen or starting a forest fire.

And Derek offered, which was… weird. But not unappreciated.

Stiles was surprised when the pack readily agreed to, you know, _kiss him,_ but they were apparently also pretty adverse to the prospect of him exploding, which was a nice sentiment.

That didn't mean they were necessarily happy about it, because most of them weren't, but no one complained too much (except Jackson. Jackson hadn't _stopped_ complaining.).

They were all waiting outside the door- Stiles didn't want anyone in the room that didn't have to be for fear of his magic lashing out- listening for Stiles to give the go-ahead.

 _Well, no time like the present,_ he thought. "Alright, someone come in. Let's get this over with."

The door slid open and in walked- no surprise- Scott. He walked right up to Stiles, gave him a wonky smile, and plopped a hand down on Stiles' shoulder.

"This is gonna be weird, but hopefully not too weird," he said optimistically.

"Thanks for the confidence, Scotty. Okay, let's do this."

Scott nodded and, without time to hesitate, pressed his lips against Stiles'.

Nothing happened. Stiles didn't feel any different, and there was certainly nothing magical going on, so he quickly pulled away. Scott raised an eyebrow and Stiles shook his head.

Both boys sagged in relief. "Thank god," Scott sighed. "That would've been horrible."

Stiles snickered and slapped Scott's arm. "If I didn't agree wholeheartedly, I would've been offended."

As Scott made his exit, Stiles mentally checked him off the list. Next, in walked Erica.

Never one to waste a moment, she stalked right up to Stiles, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, and dragged him forward.

Kissing Erica was undoubtedly better than kissing Scott, but that would probably apply to anyone.

Still, though, nada.

Erica seemed to sense this and leaned back. "Pity for you," she said, patting his cheek before heading back out the door.

Well, at least it wasn't awkward yet.

Then, in walked Jackson.

"I really don't want to do this," he said. "And I know I'm not your soulmate, so why even try?"

Stiles rolled his eyes at Jackson's antics. "What, scared of kissing a boy? Have you never done it before?"

"Oh, like you've kissed _anyone_ before today," Jackson spat back.

Maybe he was just really keyed up, or was feeling extra aggressive at the moment, but Stiles took that as a challenge. Jackson barely had time to react before Stiles was stomping up to him, grabbing his face, and smashing their mouths together.

It was probably just instinct, but Jackson's hands immediately clutched onto Stiles' waist as he kissed back.

Kissing Jackson was… weirdly nice.

Not that he would ever tell him that, and it didn't matter, anyway, because nothing happened.

All of the sudden, Jackson jerked back and stomped back to the door, but that didn't stop Stiles from seeing the light blush staining his cheeks.

Interesting.

Kissing Isaac, Boyd, Allison, and Kira followed in similar fashion with varying degrees of awkwardness (Boyd and Kira) and snarking (Isaac and Allison), but still nothing happened. Lydia and Malia had both kissed him before, so it wasn't too weird, and he was oddly relieved when nothing happened.

That left one person. The one person he had been refusing to think about this whole time, even though he failed. The person that just so happened to go last.

Stiles had to remind himself that his soulmate wasn't guaranteed to be in the pack, but that only slightly dampened his excitement.

And even if Derek wasn't his soulmate, he was going to get to _kiss_ the guy. On the _mouth._ In just a _few seconds._

So Stiles had a crush- sue him.

The sound of the door sliding shut drew Stiles from his thoughts, and he saw Derek standing there vaguely uncomfortably. As he walked forward, Stiles saw him wipe his hands shakily on his pants, as if they had been sweating.

Was Derek… nervous?

No way. Probably just anxious to get it over with so he never had to even think about kissing Stiles ever again.

Stiles hoped not, but he was just being realistic here.

"So," Stiles started, "just you left, big guy. If it's not you, I don't know who it is," he mumbled.

Derek just nodded, slowly getting closer and closer until they were only a foot apart.

Then he murmured, almost too low for Stiles to hear, "Do you think…?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, maybe, but… I guess we won't know until we…" he cleared his throat and gestured vaguely between them. "Do you think-?"

"I don't know," Derek cut him off.

Nodding, Stiles bit his lip nervously. Derek's eyes tracked the movement, but he quickly diverted them. "So, I guess we should just…" Stiles gestured again, internally berating himself for being such an awkward idiot, "go for it?"

Derek nodded again, but didn't move a muscle. So Stiles stepped forward.

They were nose to nose, barely an inch between them, and Stiles was so fucking nervous.

What if Derek _was_ his soulmate? What if Derek didn't _want_ to be his soulmate? What if Stiles didn't find his soulmate at all, and the magic just kept building until he exploded-

Derek's lips connected with his, and the lightbulbs above them shattered.

The air picked up, like a mini tornado swirling around them, and stray papers and pens went flying; the couch was hovering three feet from the ground; _Stiles and Derek_ were hovering, feet standing on the air five inches above the floor.

Neither of them noticed any of it.

Stiles felt _amazing._ His whole body felt so much lighter than it had, but it was more than that. Kissing Derek wasn't like kissing any of the others- there was nothing awkward or strange about the slide of their lips, nothing tense about the way their hands clutched at each other, wherever they could reach. There was nothing funny or insignificant about the feeling of fullness neither had experienced before. It was like a hole they never realized was there had been filled.

Suddenly, Stiles could _feel_ Derek. And not in just a physical sense, but in his head. In his heart.

There was a tugging, but it wasn't unpleasant at all. In fact, Stiles felt more content than he ever had.

The door was whipped open with the wind and the pack spilled into the room, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight in front of them.

At their noises of surprise and awe, Stiles felt something in himself snap. He saw a bright light behind his eyes, felt himself fall back to the ground, heard the thuds of things falling all around him, then felt an intense pain in his head, and then-

When Stiles woke up, his head felt like it was clogged, but overall, he felt better than he had in a long time. His eyes crept open with no small effort, but, oddly enough, felt most of the crap in his head drain upon seeing his pack sitting around him, gazes worried.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a gasp.

He could _feel_ all of them. He could sense that they were all together, could feel what they were feeling- the intense fear. Stiles felt tears fill his eyes, but he wasn't sure why. He felt so overwhelmed, but in the best way imaginable.

The pack let out a collective breath of relief when Stiles managed a genuine smile, and they all collapsed forward onto him. Laughing, Stiles reveled in the closeness. His eyes slipped shut in contentedness, but before he could fall into sleep once again, a weight settled over his hand.

Stiles looked over to his side and saw Derek seated next to him. Love swelled in Stiles' chest, and he couldn't tell if it was his or Derek's, or the rest of the pack's, but he didn't care. Stiles turned his hand over and laced his fingers through Derek's, smiled as his soulmate's other hand came up to caress his cheek, and a kiss was placed on his forehead.

All of his earlier concerns dissipated. There was nothing to worry about, now.

Derek kept his face close, burying his nose in Stiles' hair and taking a deep breath.

Stiles let his eyes drift shut.

It felt like there would be no reason to worry ever again.


End file.
